touch (scintillas)
The next truck shall be there soon. It is Nora and Ren and Vine and Elm upon this run, guarding the shipment from the warehouses to Amity; the duo has naught but a few hours before they arrive. Normally the trip would take longer, in all honestly, but if Nora and Elm are in the same vehicle, Clover knows that there is no way they are driving at proper regulation speeds, no matter how much the two calmer men protest.
He needs to finish this up quickly, it seems. And yet, he cannot bring himself to do it; not with the way Qrow's eyes are teary, cheeks flushed, sweat glistening down his temple, lips puffy as they wrap around his knuckles, those sharp canines biting hard enough through pale, scarred skin to draw blood had it not been for the elder's Aura. He cannot stop now, for he has not finished up, has not eaten his fill.
The whimpers and keening gasps for breath, combined with raspy, mocking mutters of, "What are you, a baby?" and the uninhibited rocking of the elder's heat against his own, separated only by thin fabric and the barest restraint, only fuel him onwards as he wraps his arms around a strong, narrow waist, readjusting the legs which wrap around his thighs, the weight upon his lap so familiar and so comforting that he knows in this moment that this is where he belongs, more than anything. At first, he had been hesitant in this- he is always hesitant at first when it comes to Qrow, only to Qrow, he doesn't ever want to go too far for Qrow and Qrow alone- but with the way that little puffs of air escape the other's lips at each suckle, bite, tug, he knows his warmth is welcomed.
Pulling his lips away from a chest that is so bruised and loved that Aura cannot begin to heal everything without the help of time, he looks up to see half-lidded eyes gazing back wantonly at him. "Are you done yet?" is the gasping question which leaves the other's mouth as his knuckles withdraw, trails of saliva connecting the ridges and puffy lips.
Clover smiles, opening his mouth obediently, waiting. Qrow flushes to the tips of his ears before cool, long, bony fingers enter, probing, diving deeper and deeper until Clover is taken to the bliss of heady suffocation; with one hand, he reaches between them, grabbing hold of them both and caressing the growing heat in his hands, almost in disbelief at it all; with the other, he reaches up, replacing his lips with fingers upon bruised skin and pert flesh which longs for more.
Red eyes almost roll back completely as Clover begins to move his hands, his throat, torn between nothing but the desire to close his eyes and fully submit himself to the feeling and the desire to keep them open, to watch the other come so fully undone by his hands. He wants and wants and wants, wishing he could capture this closeness forever, the sensation of the pads of his fingers and palm growing sticky and slick, his throat closing around foreign objects that can happily live there forever. The heat is greater than anything the generators would be able to emulate.
Eventually, he sticks with the latter decision, and he holds no regrets, watching a pale, stubble-covered chin and neck fully exposed as it is thrown backwards with a wordless cry, begging to be loved as he captures heat dripping through his fingers with such force he cannot contain it all, digits in his mouth curling in delight, causing him to gag so beautifully as the lean, yet muscled body in his arms shakes and keens and writhes, exalted and worshiped the way it is meant to be. He sucks until they slip from his mouth, resting his forehead against a quivering collarbone as the other comes down from his high, the trembling enough to send him over, too.
And then, as the haze clears, he wipes his hand on his towel and brings it up to stroke a panting, shaking back, feeling those damp fingers slick with his saliva tracing chilling circles down each of his vertebrae, lips murmuring words of disbelief and praise and affection into his damp hair, and he feels whole.
They have a few hours before the next shipment arrives. Before then, he can clean them both up, destroy the evidence of their actions. For now, he just wants to stay like this, for this is peace.